


give me shelter or show me heart.

by redhoods



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Schmoop, Temporary Character Death, loose interpretations of the rules of Dungeons & Dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 09:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18280136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: He’s right there, very close, taking up most of Fjord’s vision and he seems to be the one talking, though Fjord still can’t make out the words. His eyes are red and his face is damp and there’s a small smudge of mud under his left eye that Fjord tries brush away with his thumb but mostly just ends up patting Caleb’s cheek.He still can’t make out what Caleb’s saying, not really, but gurgles out a, “Are you crying?”Caleb blinks at him several times, lips going still, pressing into a flat line that means Fjord’s done something he doesn’t like, though for the life of him, Fjord can’t remember what it is he’s done.





	give me shelter or show me heart.

**Author's Note:**

> i heard y'all liked soft schmoopy stuff.
> 
> at one point, i had six (6) d&d beyond tabs open for this fic and i still said "fuck these rules" and did what i wanted. though actually, i think barring one very specific part? i actually followed them???? i think liam would be proud. please don't tell him about this though.
> 
> i have Many Feelings about this fic that i will put at the end because spoilers and also because i know y'all just want the fic.
> 
> the title is from *throws dart at long list of sappy songs* only love by ben howard.

His lungs burn and he gasps, fingers scrabbling for something but he doesn’t know what, and it’s so _bright_ , he can’t make out anything. Sound isn’t really there, aside from what might be his own blood pounding through his ears as a rapid rate.

There are hands pressing against his shoulders and Fjord presses against them, trying to sit up, trying to see, to make sense of why his senses aren’t making sense.

Which makes little sense in his own head.

It feels like he hit a wall or a wall hit him. 

Someone is talking to him, rapid words that he can’t make out over the static buzzing in his ears and his tongue feels too big for his mouth and the world is coming back slowly.

It’s Caleb.

He’s right there, very close, taking up most of Fjord’s vision and he seems to be the one talking, though Fjord still can’t make out the words. His eyes are red and his face is damp and there’s a small smudge of mud under his left eye that Fjord tries brush away with his thumb but mostly just ends up patting Caleb’s cheek.

He still can’t make out what Caleb’s saying, not really, but gurgles out a, “Are you crying?”

Caleb blinks at him several times, lips going still, pressing into a flat line that means Fjord’s done something he doesn’t like, though for the life of him, Fjord can’t remember what it is he’s done.

Actually, Fjord can’t remember much from today, at least he doesn’t think so, he’s not sure what day it is any longer.

Caleb starts talking again, but he’s not looking at Fjord any longer, instead he’s looking at Caduceus, who is also very close and squinting at Fjord in a way that means he’s _seeing_ something. Fjord hunches in on himself as best he can when his whole body feels stiff and curves towards Caleb instinctually.

That alone seems to settle something in Caduceus and that’s about when words start to finally filter in and make sense and he hears, “...seems like a temporary thing, it should come back to him.”

Caduceus nods at the both of them and stands, though Fjord doesn’t see where he goes, because Caleb is touching his cheek, drawing his attention, “Are you with me, liebling?” His face is blotchy red and this close, Fjord can smell smoke and ozone like a haze around Caleb.

Fjord licks his lips and takes stock as best he can, “I think so?” Everything’s still fuzzy and he’s so tired, but he doesn’t have any major complaints yet, “What happened?”

For several heartbeats, Caleb simply watches him, then, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Ah, going to bed last night?” Fjord replies almost immediately, but pauses once the words are out, squinting as he tries to remember past that point. They’d all gone to bed early, wanting a full night’s sleep for _something_ , but that something is alluding him. There’s a deep furrow between Caleb’s eyes and his hand feels a little more steady as he reaches out to rub his thumb between Caleb’s eyebrows, “I’m sure it’s going to come back to me soon.”

He notices it then, his hand sliding down to cup the side of Caleb’s neck, “Caleb,” his voice comes out more strained than he expects it to, “Caleb, where is your necklace?”

Caleb’s hand comes up and cups the back of Fjord’s, his expression serious, but he doesn’t seem surprised or confused about his missing necklace. He doesn’t actually say anything, the pad of his thumb making gentle sweeps back and forth over Fjord’s knuckles in a way that’s strangely soothing.

Fjord racks his brain, trying to get the gears turning again, but there’s only one reason Caleb would remove his necklace, “Ikithon,” he says quietly and that sparks something, but only small shards.

\-------------

Caleb’s hunched over the desk when Fjord comes into the room. He’d begged out as soon as he’d finished dinner and everyone had let him, had sensed that he needed the time alone, but it’s been almost two hours and Fjord knows they’re both going to need rest before tomorrow.

He approaches, careful to make noise as he does, not wanting to startle Caleb. Stopping just behind the chair, he slides his hands over Caleb’s shoulders and squeezes them gently, drawing him back to sit right, “You’re going to ruin your back like that,” he chides gently and it’s getting easier every day to leave Vandren’s accent behind.

For an alarming moment, he thinks he’s lost Caleb to his memories. It wouldn’t surprise him now, even if it’s been some time since Caleb has gone slipping down that slope. He’s gearing up to talk nonsense, ramble on and draw Caleb back to him, but Caleb slumps back against his hands, tension easing out of him, “I think my back may beyond the point of no return, liebling,” his voice is hoarse, like he’s been crying, and Fjord’s heart aches.

“Come on, love,” he says quietly, sliding his hands down and under Caleb’s arms, lifting him up from the chair. Caleb comes easily, slack and pliant, and folds right into Fjord’s arms, head tucking under his chin.

They stand there for a while, quiet and holding on, and Fjord gently pets his hand up and down the length of Caleb’s back.

Caleb is the one to pull back, jaw tight, “We should rest. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

\-------------

“Ja, you’re on the right path,” Caleb replies, voice hushed, and Fjord had somehow missed it, but there’s blood sliding down the other side of Caleb’s face, a cut around his eyebrow and down part of his cheek.

Fjord thumbs his jaw to peer at it, “Where’d Cad go, he should -”

“- it is fine. I believe Mr. Clay is tapped for today,” and that feels meaningful. It has been a while since Caduceus has been truly tapped for magic, but the true meaning of that is still alluding Fjord.

“What about Jester?”

“I’m coming!” Fjord sees her beyond Caleb’s shoulder, or, well, a flash of her dress and the spade of her tail as she skips over. Her face is damp and she keeps looking at Fjord even as she squishes Caleb’s face between her hands and starts weaving her healing magic.

Caleb lets it happen though, seemingly unruffled, but also endlessly fond, “Thank you, Jester.”

Her smile is genuine, but wavering and she looks between the two of them again, before nodding to herself, “I’m going to go make sure Beau isn’t dying!” She declares, chipper once more, and from somewhere in the direction she’d come from he hears, “Fuck you, Jessie, I’m fine!”

Fjord squints at Caleb, who doesn’t quite meet his gaze. He tries to sit up again and doesn’t quite make it, ends up sprawled in Caleb’s lap, panting quietly against Caleb’s stomach, cheek on Caleb’s thigh, “Fuck,” he wheezes out.

Long fingers slide through his hair, over and over, repetitive and lulling.

“I see why Frumpkin purrs so much,” he grouses, face still pressed against Caleb’s shirt. The position isn’t uncomfortable, but his whole body somehow is, like his skin is stretched too tight. His hands are shaking so he tucks them under Caleb’s coat, around his back and holds on.

There’s a quiet huff above him, “Liebling, you’re purring right now,” Caleb sounds so soft, and Fjord realizes he’s right though. He hadn’t even been aware he was doing it.

\-------------

Caleb’s hands are shaking, trembling so hard that his fingers aren’t cooperating, so Fjord cups them gently and eases them down, “Let me,” he’s offering, not telling, giving Caleb the chance to brush him off, but Caleb meets his gaze and nods.

It takes a little prying with the tips of his claws, but the knot in the cord comes loose and Caleb’s necklace, his shield, slides down his neck and into Fjord’s waiting palm. They both end up holding their breath, like it’s all going to come crashing down right this very second.

Nothing happens.

One second turns into twenty turns into fifty.

Caleb releases a breath and presses Fjord’s fingers closed around the necklace.

Fjord presses a kiss to Caleb’s forehead and lingers, even as he tucks the necklace away into his pocket. His lips aren’t even an inch from Caleb’s forehead when he says, “We’re going to be okay.”

“Everyone be ready,” he hears Beau say somewhere to their left and Fjord withdraws, thumbing across Caleb’s jaw once before nodding at him. He waits for Caleb’s nod back before he summons the falchion into his palm and takes another step back.

\-------------

Time slip slides away from him like that, with his face pressed into Caleb’s shirt and Caleb’s fingers in his chair, his chest rumbling quietly along without his say so, but eventually someone kicks him in the shin.

“Nott,” Caleb quietly hisses and Fjord lifts his head to peer down to where she is.

She’s squinting at both of them, her hood thrown back around her shoulders, her braid coming loose. Fjord feels a little like he’s being seen _through_ when she turns her brown eyes on him, but she juts her chin at him, “I’m proud of you, bastard man,” she says definitively, before turning on her heel and marching off.

Fjord coughs on a laugh, bewildered as he looks to Caleb.

“It’ll make sense when you remember more,” Caleb tells him, his finger tracing along the point of Fjord’s ear absent minded as he stares after where she’d gone to.

Caleb’s never said it outloud, not in so many words, but Fjord knows that he’d been terrified, when Nott had been changed back, had become Veth, the halfling mother once more, that he was going to lose his best friend. She’d scowled at him once it’d been done, bitten his finger with blunt teeth and asked for her flask back. Fjord had been the only one in the right position to see the relief that had melted over Caleb’s face.

He remembers all of that, but not anything that’s happened in the last - “What time is it?”

“Two forty-four in the afternoon,” Caleb tells him without hesitation.

“So I’m only missing -”

“- about six hours, I believe.”

Fjord nods. That’s not so bad.

Beau’s face appears over Caleb’s shoulder and Fjord shouts, jerking back. It’s only Caleb’s hand still in his hair that keeps him from tipping over, “What is it, Beauregard?” Caleb’s other hand curls around his shoulder, hauling him in closer. Fjord narrows his eyes at Beau, who only smirks back at him.

She reaches a hand over Caleb’s shoulder, knuckles nearly brushing Fjord’s nose as she reveals her prize, “Found this, thought it might replace your other fancy stone.”

Fjord moves her hand so he can see Caleb’s face, “What happened to your other stone?”

“Ah,” Caleb takes the stone from Beau’s hand and rolls it around his palm, “This will do perfectly. Thank you.”

She looks between the two of them before scoffing, “Men,” and disappearing once more.

\-------------

In the moments of silence, Fjord watches Caleb, watches him pull out his stone and roll it around his palm a few times before he closes his fist around it and lifts his wrist where his copper wire is, his finger pointed in Beau’s direction.

There’s a beat and, “Fuck you too, Caleb.”

Caleb grins though and his gaze moves to Fjord, “I needed to change this,” he explains, holding the stone up before sliding it into his pocket. Fjord’s seen him do it dozens of times before by now, isn’t quite sure all the things it’s capable of doing, but knows that they haven’t stopped being impressive.

There’s nothing about Caleb that hasn’t stopped being impressive.

He steps in before he can think about it and ducks to press his lips to Caleb’s, a simple press of dry lips, before he steps away. No one comments and that holds the brevity about what’s about to happen here, like they’re all holding their breath.

The teleportation circle in front of them activates and Fjord gently buffs his knuckles against Caleb’s chin and steps away again.

\-------------

“Oh,” Fjord says suddenly and twists to sit up once more. Caleb supports him this time and he ends up leaning his back against Caleb’s front, so he can look out at the chamber they’re in. “Is he - did we?”

There’s a rumble against his back as Caleb makes a strange, strangled sort of sound, “He is dead, yes.”

Fjord relaxes and takes in the scene. His vision is still weirdly hazy at the edges, fuzzed out like he’s had too much to drink, but he can take in the gist of it. There’s a lot of broken furniture, cabinets and tables, scorch marks on the stone walls, even blood spatter if that’s really what he’s seeing. Papers and books are scattered about as well.

The others are all purposefully picking through it all, he can see a pile they’ve created of stuff they’ve found that might be interesting. Fjord’s pretty sure their picking now though is just to give he and Caleb time.

He notices the bodies last.

There’s several of them piled in the far side of the room, but he can’t make out much details from his position. He doesn’t think getting closer would help either, most of them seem to be charred. 

He twists his upper body enough to look at Caleb, who’s looking steadily at him, “I’m still missing something important here, aren’t I?”

Caleb nods.

“Should we still be here? Should we go?” He asks this to the room at large.

There’s a few beats of silence and he can feel Caleb nod and Jester starts loading the pile into the haversack while Beau loads things into... his bag of holding. He hadn’t even realized it was missing.

Yasha comes over and offers him a hand, which he takes gratefully. It’s like nothing to her, like he weighs nothing, she simply pulls once and he’s up, though he lists a little in her direction. She places her hands on his shoulders, keeping him upright, “Steady. You’ll be stronger once we rest.”

He nods and curls his fingers tight against Caleb’s shoulder when Caleb tucks under his arm, helping him stay upright. 

It still takes time for them to all gather up and Fjord gets passed off to Jester while Caleb removes chalk from his component pouch and draws sigils on the center of the circle on the floor.

The portal opens and they all step through.

\-------------

It’s not any of their first time seeing Trent Ikithon, but this time feels vastly different from the others. He is smirking now, so very sure of himself and his power. He is not alone either, several figures solidify behind them, a handful of them. Ikithon’s gaze does not waver though, his attention fully on Caleb. “Hello, Bren, it has been a long time.”

Before Fjord can release the spell he’s been holding onto, a crossbow bolt sinks into Ikithon’s chest and all hell breaks loose.

\-------------

Fjord vomits as soon as they’re through the portal.

Jester is still the one holding him and she nearly drops him as she attempts to dodge out of the way to keep her shoes out of the mess. Fjord doesn’t have it in him to mention that there’s blood on her shoes, not as he wretches again.

Caleb is there in an instant though, a hand pressing to his back, “It’s alright, I have you.”

Fjord nods and leans into him, “Sorry,” he croaks out, closing his eyes and breathing in smoke and ozone and old parchment.

When he opens his eyes again, the only other person in the room is Caduceus, “This should pass in a few days,” he says, though his words are directed at Caleb. He nods at Fjord and then steps out through the double doors that lead to the rest of the house.

They shuffle after him, slow going considering Fjord can barely support his own weight and Caleb’s possibly the weakest physically of their group. That’s probably for the better though, Fjord’s not sure his stomach could handle moving much faster.

The sounds strike him first, when they cross the threshold. Beau and Jester yelling at each other about something, Nott’s chatter unintelligible through the walls, and Caduceus gentle cadence soothing. Caleb hums, “Oh, to be home again,” he says, wistful and unmistakably pleased.

“Cay, I don’t think we’re going to be able to make the stairs like this,” Fjord says quietly, once he realizes that’s where Caleb is leading him.

“Don’t worry! I will help you!” Jester’s voice is very loud and Fjord realizes that’s because she’s much closer than he’d noticed. He’s half afraid she’s going to try and scoop him up to carry him up the stairs, but she loops her arm under his on the side opposite of Caleb and bares the most of his weight as the three of them limp up the stairs, “How much do you remember now?”

They’re only halfway up and Fjord can feel the sweat forming on his forehead, “I remember the beginning of the fight, so almost all of it.”

She hums, “Well, you’re almost there!” 

He’s not sure if she means the stairs or his memory.

“I’m sure _Cay_ -leb will fill in all yours blanks,” she adds and it feels pointed, but he’s not sure about that either. All he’s sure about is that he really wants to lay down and he can see the top of the staircase getting very close.

Caleb, who has been quiet since they left the teleportation room, says, “I will not keep anything from him, Jester.”

She bobs a nod once they make it onto the floor and off the stairs, “I know you won’t,” and then bounds back down the stairs yelling for Beau.

Fjord stops to tuck his face into Caleb’s neck and breathe, “I feel like I’ve aged twenty years,” he pants out, hands on Caleb’s hips, “I’ve never wanted a nap so bad in my life.”

“We’re almost there,” Caleb says as a warm hand cups around his neck.

Nodding, Fjord inhales deeply before lifting himself up and starting the shuffle down the hall to their room.

\-------------

Fjord’s left arm is screaming in pain, fire licked and tucked close to his body, and his left eye is only seeing a little hazily, but he can still see enough to send blasts of Eldritch energy across the room. Caleb is close enough that Fjord can feel the brush of his elbow as he moves his arms to cast his spells and Fjord hasn’t gone more than ten feet from him since this started.

He’s just carved through one of Ikithon’s thugs coming in Caleb’s direction when the hair raises on his arms and the back of his neck. Instinctively, he adjusts his position, curving in towards Caleb’s front.

Ikithon is bleeding from several bolts sticking out of his body, sword slices, half of his face swollen, his robes burned on the front. He’s starting to get twitchy, Fjord can see it, the way his eyes flick back and forth, but they land suddenly on Caleb once more and he holds his finger out.

“You are unworthy of the power you weild.”

And there’s something about the way the word “unworthy” leaves his lips that has Fjord taking another step, just the one that it takes to put him between Ikithon and Caleb, shielding Caleb from his view.

The magic slams into his chest and he hears a lot of shouting before the world falls dark.

\-------------

He lands on their bed, hard, like his strings have been cut and says, “Ah,” then, “Shit,” and then, “Caleb.”

“Ja,” Caleb is there, next to him, an arm around his back, “You remember now then?”

Fjord nods and leans into him, swallowing in his throat, “He was trying to kill you,” he says quietly, because he isn’t sorry. He isn’t. He’d do it again. And again. Until there was nothing left of him to bring back, if it meant that Caleb was still alive.

“I know,” Caleb’s voice is very quiet.

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

There’s a drawn out pause where Fjord simply waits, feeling small tucked under Caleb’s arm like he is. “Ja, I did,” is Caleb’s response, though louder, so very sure, “I told him he was not worthy of his life.”

Fjord doesn’t say a lot of things that come to mind and instead asks, “What happened to your stone?”

“I brought you back.”

Fjord jerks hard, twisting to look at Caleb, “You did what?”

Caleb doesn’t shrink back, but he looks surprised, “I can use the stone to bring someone back. It destroys it, but we did not have diamonds, it was - “

Whatever he was going to say, Fjord doesn’t hear it, will worry about it later. He presses his lips to Caleb’s. It’s off center and he’s barely holding himself up and Caleb’s surprised, but they get there after an adjustment, Caleb’s hands framing his face.

When he pulls back, he touches their foreheads, bumps their noses, “You are endlessly impressive, Caleb Widogast.”

Caleb’s face turns a furious shade of red and before he can backtrack, Fjord gently nudges him away, shaking his head, “Nope,” he pops the ‘p’, “No take backs, no talking out of it, let me compliment you, dammit.” He starts fussing with the straps of his armor.

It takes Caleb’s help for him to actually get most of the buckles undone but between the two of them, they rid him of his armor and boots so he can collapse back against the pillows on their bed. He watches quietly as Caleb removes his own version of armor, his coat and holsters, the leather strap around his thigh, his boots. It’s achingly familiar and Fjord relishes in the routine of it and the care that Caleb takes putting his things away.

“Oh,” he says and shuffles up to reach into his pocket, “I have something of yours.”

“We can sell that necklace, for all I care about it,” Caleb doesn’t even look from where he’s hanging Fjord’s armor up in its proper place.

Fjord hums, “Who said I was talking about the necklace?” Though the necklace is still sliding around in his pocket.

That draws Caleb’s attention though and he finishes fussing with things and returns to the bed, sitting on the edge by Fjord’s hip, “Let me see what you have then, liebling.”

Fjord grins at him and then opens his palm up for Caleb’s inspection.

Caleb’s eyes go wide and if it had been even just six months ago, Fjord would have been worried about his hesitation, worried that he’d misstepped, but he knows that sometimes Caleb needs process time. It takes him a little time before he reaches out, simply tracing his finger around the outside of the object, like he’s afraid to touch it, “This is for me?”

“I told you I’d get you one,” Fjord tells him.

“But when did you? We haven’t been -” home, anywhere near civilization.

Fjord ducks his chin to his chest and shuffles a little, “Well,” he says and this time, Caleb waits him out, lets him battle his confidence, “I’ve had it, for a while. It’s been here.”

Caleb simply gapes at him, “How long is a while, Fjord?”

He has to fight the urge to lie about it, because that’s not where they are anymore, they’re beyond that, so he very quietly says, “Months,” clears his throat, “About four months.”

“You are truly something,” Caleb says, almost immediately and closes in to press their lips together. Fjord curls his empty hand around Caleb’s wrist, leaning up as best he can to kiss Caleb back, eager and relieved. 

They break apart slowly and Fjord turns his attention to Caleb’s hand, twisting his wrist gently to turn his hand palm side down and lifts the ring to slide it onto Caleb’s finger, “There.”

Caleb stares at their hands for several minutes and then huffs out one of his little disbelieving laughs, curling forward to touch his forehead against Fjord’s chest, shoulders shaking. He’s not going to say it outloud, but Fjord’s been quietly waiting for this moment, the dam finally breaking. It’d been a toss up on how long Caleb would hold on though, but he’s glad it’s just them.

He loops his arms around Caleb’s back and even in his weakened state, it takes just a gentle tug for Caleb to fall completely against his chest, his shoulders still shaking. “It’s okay, love, let it out,” Fjord says quietly, running his fingers through Caleb’s hair and down his back in gentle sweeps.

His shirt is damp by the time Caleb’s shoulders stop shaking, but it’s still a while after that before Caleb levers himself up. Once more, Caleb’s face is blotchy red and damp and Fjord reaches up and brushes the tears away with his thumbs.

“I was,” Caleb pauses and scrubs his arm over his eyes and starts again, “I was expecting to wake up and this all have been a dream,” he admits.

Fjord cups a hand around his cheek, “We made it work.”

Caleb presses into his palm, “We made it work.”

\-------------

Jester is staring at them, her eyes bright, her hands clasped in front of her, her symbol to the Traveller in her palms. She’s practically dancing on the spot too, looking almost ethereal in the glow from Driftglobe hovering above them. Caduceus is next to her, smiling soft and serene, his staff emitting a faint pink light as he clasps it between both hands, “Is there anything the two of you want to say?”

Fjord looks to the others first, _their family_. Nott as she was always meant to be, hafling and happy and holding Luke to her chest in what Fjord is pretty sure a bid to try and hide her tears. Yezza standing next to her, his arm around her back, beaming brightly. Beau standing tall, jaw tight and eyes suspiciously damp. He thinks of Vandren and his humble home by the sea. He thinks of a field of lavender growing wild along Glory Run Road, unstopped by the cold temperatures or unfavorable ground.

Then he looks to Caleb, finds Caleb looking at him already.

He huffs out a wet laugh, but doesn’t pull his hands from Caleb’s to scrub his face, his mouth twisting in a wry sort of smile, broken up by the uneven points of his tusks, “Here’s to making it work.”

Caleb smiles, even as Beau groans next to them, “Here’s to making it work.”

**Author's Note:**

> Many Feelings, in no particular order:  
> 1) fuck trent ikithon  
> 2) this was not an idea on my list of ideas, what the fuck  
> 3) is it vandrAn or vandrEn, we just don't know  
> 4) will nott still be nott or will she want to be veth, i'm waiting for sam riegel to fuck me up with that answer  
> 5) DUAL CLERICS WEDDING, i want it  
> 6) i still miss molly, i will never be over it, bite me  
> 7) power word kill is an iconic spell and i dread the day i have a high enough level character to deal with it  
> 8) caleb will be able to use his stone to cast raise dead at level 14, among other various Really Cool things  
> 9) the party strength scores are a Thing to behold: yasha 17, jester 16, fjord and nott 11, caleb, beau, and caduceus (and molly) 10. i have a sorcerer/bard that has 18 strength like... whew.
> 
> (look at that, i had 9 whole ass feelings)
> 
> i'm irresponsible on multiple platforms now: [tumblr](https://redhoods.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/red_hoodsy)


End file.
